


Glitter hearts and Candy

by Foodmoon



Series: Of Tea and Glitter Guns and Cats [12]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Candy, Creeps - Freeform, Gen, Gifts, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 17:47:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13686681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foodmoon/pseuds/Foodmoon
Summary: Valentine's Day is a horror if you ask Q





	Glitter hearts and Candy

**Author's Note:**

> This is an impulse fic, because I looked up from a different fic and saw it was Valentine's and this leaped into my head and scampered around happily. So it's just kind of wedged in rather than being planned at all.

Q detests Valentine’s Day. He always has. Either he gets nothing, or he gets notes and candy from the kids who haven’t learned yet that writing things like: _‘I want to Mary you.’_ or _‘I want to suck your words off cuz youR so sweet.’_ is extremely creepy. Not to mention, coming across as braindead rather than cute. Even at six, he’d known that wasn’t how you spell ‘marry’.

Matters haven’t improved much over the years, except now that he’s out of uni _(and school in general),_ he just drops off the creepy ones at the local cop station along with any gift they contain. It’s a ritual now, and the local station takes it a bit more seriously after that one box of chocolates proved to be spiked with some designer date-rape drug that the tests missed and over half the station ended up stoned silly because everyone had taken one or two.

So Q does his best to forget the day exists. It’s just that he hasn’t ever managed to miss entirely that it was coming up until this year. He cringes when he sees glitter-covered pink and red hearts plastered everywhere and slinks into his office and locks the door.

To his dismay, there’s already a neatly wrapped package on his desk.

Feeling woeful, he reluctantly opens it, then blinks in shock. Inside are two packages with heart shaped rings…of cat treats? There’s only three people who know enough about him to have done this, and this is not a very M sort of gift, if he’s any judge.

He’s just not sure if it’s an Alec gift or a Bond gift. It seems more Bond’s style, but then again, he’s never approached Q in the workplace with anything resembling a friendly gesture. In the end, Q decides that it’s likely an Alec gesture.

Lunch comes with a delivery from M, a packet of cheap chocolate digestives from the local supermarket. It’s the most explicit way he’s ever seen someone say without a word, _“Yes, yes. Here, obligation chocolates. Now don’t bother me.”_

He tells R that she is welcome to any cards or candy that come for him after this. In return, she gives him a tootsie roll so hard that he’s pretty sure he could use it as a crayon if he sharpens one end.

There’s a large pile of candy on R’s desk by the end of the day, and random cards and bags scattered around. She waggles her fingers at him as he passes. “Wow, you really do get some creepy ones, don’t you? No worries, I yelled at the culprits and threw out those candies just in case. Have a good night, Q, and thanks for the candy.”

Q gives her a strained smile in return. While he’s glad she’s taken care of it for him, it does his heart no good to know that even MI-6 has enough creeps to pull something like that. He’d rather not know, to be honest.

He’s extremely relieved when he gets home and finds nothing out of place, no gifts, no cards tucked under the edge of the door.

Just lonely cats thrilled to see him, and an empty bed.

It’s not until the next morning that he remembers Bond has been out of the country for two weeks, isn’t due back for another, and proceeds to feel extremely face-palm-y about being silly and worrying over it.

Honestly, it’s the best Valentine’s he’s had in years.

Even his cats agree.

**Author's Note:**

> (grins) Don't tell me you were expecting something sweet? Poor Q.
> 
> Now, if he'd just considered letting R pick up his post for him...


End file.
